Sunstreaker wanted to play, too...
...but the object of his fascination would give me away, so the Sunny in my head-space didn't get an entry in the Mile High Club at M_E. Somebody made it up to him though, and how: he got to have jet-judo and overload all in the same skirmish. Can't beat that!
Especially when, in my universe, all he can do right now is dream...
Title: What Moves the Sun
Universe: loosely G1 cartoon. Since the sequel to Approaching the Origin is taking much longer to write than I anticipated, I offer this for insight into Focus of the Sun. This occurs about a week before that scene.
Rating: PG-13 for language and implications.
Pairing: Looking toward a new one for Sunstreaker, but presently implying Bluestreak/Sideswipe and Bluestreak/Sideswipe/Sunstreaker.
Author's Notes: In dreams, past, present, and fantasy mingle freely and become indistinguishable. Sunstreaker processes his reactions to the mech whose form was destroyed in saving him. Except for inclusion of one of my OCs, it would have been an entry for The Mile High Club challenge; Rusty_Chevy provided another round of awesome beta and encouragement. As always, corporations own the widely-known characters. 2600 words.
Sunstreaker was dreaming about jet judo. Holding onto Thundercracker for dear life in the damp night air, he pounded with gusto on the Eagle's fuselage. "How do you like that?" he yelled, letting out another whoop as Thundercracker went into a barrel-roll. "Oh yeah ya slagger keep it up!"
A mote of shadow in the darkness teased his optic and he turned to look. It was gone. What happened to my night vision? he thought. Clouds obscured the starlight. He went back to beating Thundercracker, feeling the jet's canopy crack beneath his blows.
"Starscream can't help you!" he taunted. Condensation formed on both their skins, beading up and running. He felt more than heard another powerful set of engines coming up behind him and instinctively hunkered down over the Seeker carrying him. Just in time, it seemed: where his head had been a moment before, another fighter jet roared past, centimeters above him as he held on to the struggling Thundercracker. It was not an F-15, not the same air-frame as Thundercracker, not one of his brothers. Sunstreaker did not know what to make of it. He could hear radio transmissions between his current victim and assumedly that other, but they were encrypted and he had no processor time to spare for code-cracking as he fought for purchase on the water-slicked plating.
Thundercracker climbed as steeply as he could, and as steadily. The other jet was coming back for another pass, almost completely straight down. Bullet-like, he was headed for Thundercracker, either to crash into him or to peel Sunstreaker from him.
Sunstreaker realized he was falling; the water must have made him lose his grip. No paraglider, no jet-pack, and he'd been wrestling Thundercracker over the ocean. He remembered that detail somehow, oily glistening black water far below them. I'm for the smelter this time, he concluded, not hearing his brother's jet-pack approach.
He fell for what seemed like forever, a frustratingly long time. How the frag did we get that high? passed his processor, nearly impatient to find out what would happen to him. He'd been told that hitting the surface of the water could be as damaging as a fall to the hard ground from a height. He wasn't sure he believed it, but he was certain he didn't want to find out first-hand. Then he collided with another Seeker.
Ahh! he thought with relief and anticipation, Round Two's on! He moved to grasp the leading edge of each wing to get leverage. His fierce glee turned to confusion as the jet spoke to him, contrary to his train of thought.
"I have you, Sir," the mech said cheerfully, completely rattling Sunstreaker, mentally in addition to the physical impact.
Who'd "sir" me? he wondered. He drew back a fist to strike, but something in the other's demeanor prevented him.
"Do I know you?" he asked guardedly, just holding on.
"No Sir," the stranger answered, open and friendly as could be, flight unaffected by the additional weight.
"No need to fraggin' sir me," he said harshly, "I just fight what they tell me to fight, anything with a 'Con badge."
Unaffected by his tone or the comment - he could see the markings on the mech's wings, Decepticon all the way - the Seeker asked, "Sunstreaker, do you like to fly?"
"What?!?" he asked, incredulous as he tried to place the aircraft supporting him, scanning the standard database of Earthly vehicle forms Wheeljack had made them all download. He'd never thought about it before. Suspiciously, wondering why he felt disinclined to beat this one into scrap, Sunstreaker answered rather mildly: "Yeah, actually I do."
"I, too. Let's just fly for a while?"
It was clearly a question, even in Cybertronian, and added to Sunstreaker's confusion.
"Sure," he said, then added mostly to himself, "Why not? I should beat the slag out of you but it doesn't feel right." He realized the mech had called him by name.
"Hey," he started, leaning forward to make sure he was heard clearly as their speed increased and the air rushing past them got louder, "how do you know my name? Who are you?"
"Megatron used your name when he ordered me to help Thundercracker," the mech paused, "and I am Starrunner."
The flight pattern this Starrunner was holding didn't seem designed to dislodge him, or even make it hard for him to hold on. Sunstreaker wondered if he weren't just trying to lull him into complacency so he could drop him to his death.
"Star Runner," he tried the unaccustomed name, "right. Frag me. You're a 'Con flyin' with the Slag-Maker’s crows. Why the Pit are you not at least trying to shake me?"
"I have been trying to shake them all my life," Starrunner offered. Sunstreaker felt inspired to look behind him, behind them as they flew, and sure enough, visible in the distance were the three usual Earth-side Seekers. "At least, it seems as if it has been my whole life."
"Huh."
"Lay flat if you can, Sunstreaker, you are slowing me down."
Sunstreaker felt oddly cooperative: he reasoned it was in his best interest to play along in support of losing their three pursuers even if this one was trying to deceive him. He wrapped his arms around the fuselage and lay flat atop the canopy, knees on either wing-join, carefully holding his legs clear of the flaps.
"That's better," his living transport said, and he felt their speed and angle of attack increase significantly. For the first time, Sunstreaker could enjoy the openness of the sky and the rush of air over his plating, faster than he could ever hope to roll over land.
I could get used to this, he thought, then vocalized: "Funny that Skywarp-fragger hasn't teleported over here to harass me."
"He is afraid of you," Starrunner answered without hesitation, "they all are." Serious as a cracked casing, he sounded, even to Sunstreaker's jaded audios.
Now you're just stroking my ego, he thought. Then, he was struck by the implication in Starrunner's statement. "But you're not afraid of me?"
Starrunner flew stiffly for a moment. Sunstreaker had spent enough time wrestling Decepticon jets to pick up certain nuances of their alt-mode body language. "I did not say that, Sunstreaker, I am more afraid of them." Then, in a small voice, as if he regretted saying it even as it left his vocalizer: "It seems like forever since I did not have to regard every action with fear and suspicion."
Sunstreaker had an urge to reassure him.
That was too much. He woke up partially, with a strangled sound of intakes.
What the frag is wrong with me? He brought his optics on-line, awake.
Bluestreak was looking at him over Sideswipe's shoulder, resting half atop the red twin, on the other berth.
"Recharge, Blue," Sunstreaker ordered dourly, rolling over away from them so he didn't have to see the concerned blue optics of his brother's - lately his and his brother's - lover, so he wouldn't have to admit what he was dreaming about.
Any 'Bot who could survive in the 'Con Pit so long alone has got to be one tough fragger, he thought with admiration. My kind of mech.
-X-X-X-
Sunstreaker was plunged back into his dream-self. Still flying with that black Seeker, Star-something he couldn't remember clearly. He thought he should know the mech's name. Small hands held him, and they flew away from the Ark. What's a Decepticon doing at the Ark? he thought, and, Why are we not fighting?
Looking up at the mech carrying him, flying in primary mode instead of jet-mode, he saw the wings were unmarked, not bearing the Decepticon badging he thought should have been there. He reached up and held onto the mech, adding the strength of his grip to the Seeker's upper arms, taking some of the strain from the hands that held him.
"What's your name again?" he asked evenly, surprised at himself for caring to know it and remember.
"It is Starrunner." Nothing notable in the voice, nothing notable in his speech or intonation, except he spoke in Cybertronian where Sunstreaker would have sworn he asked the question in the local language.
"Aren't you a Decepticretin? We should be trying to scrap each other."
"Never by choice," Starrunner answered him matter-of-factly, “and never in truth."
Sunstreaker sensed a problem coming, turned his head and saw Starscream taking aim on them. He was not concerned for himself: somehow he knew Starscream was not gunning for him this time. He tried to warn Starrunner, even though he knew it would not matter.
"Starrunner look out! Starscream's taking aim-"
There was no time for evasive maneuvers, not in root-mode, carrying Sunstreaker. Blasts from both null rays struck Starrunner squarely in the side. They started to fall.
"Star-!"
He felt anger.
He felt guilt.
He felt grief.
Never one to leak coolant, he expressed those emotions by tightening his intakes painfully, making himself strain for cooling air, able to deal with physical manifestations where the emotional confounded him.
Gentle fingers stroked the back of his hand comfortingly.
He moved to catch the fingers and they ghosted away. Sunstreaker looked for the owner of them and found him, close but not touching. Confused, he started to ask, "Star-?"
A pair of dim red lights drew nearer, optical facets reflecting some of the blue of his own eyes, mirroring his intensity. He was used to doling out as much damage as possible to aircraft wings and canopies, to red-opticked faces. He found himself wanting to do everything but that with the set that came to mantle over him.
"My Star," he breathed with certainty, possessive, and found his intakes already constricted in anticipation.
-X-X-X-
Bluestreak shook Sideswipe awake.
"Whah?" Sideswipe asked, eloquence not his strong suit even when his processors were fully functional.
"I think something's wrong with Sunstreaker he's been talking in his recharge again and woke up a little while ago do you think maybe he's having nightmares?" Bluestreak still had nightmares of his lost city, reliving things he wouldn't explain afterward, only cling to Sideswipe for a breem and thank him for pulling him out of memory. He didn't spend every recharge cycle with them, and they didn’t interact every time, but lately Sunstreaker was nearly insatiable and it spilled over into Sideswipe. Bluestreak gave freely but was concerned.
Sideswipe knew the two were connected, Sunny's dreaming and his apparent increase in drive since his release from medical, not two weeks past. "Could be, Blue," he said muzzily, "but unless he says something coherent, I'm gonna leave him alone." Sideswipe wrapped an arm possessively around Bluestreak's waist and pulled the chevroned head down to his shoulder.
Sunstreaker made small indeterminate sounds and shifted uncomfortably.
"He was fragged bad in that last battle," Sideswipe commented. "Ratchet said he fought going into recharge. Has he said anything understandable?"
Bluestreak relaxed against his best friend, his chosen, his favorite. "No only something that sounds like 'star' over and over and some strangled sounds that could be anything bad good or indifferent."
"Mmmmh," Sideswipe answered, satisfied that all was well in the world, "probably dreaming about jet judo with Starscream, then. Go back to sleep, Blue."
-X-X-X-
Sunstreaker was lost. He did not know where he was. It didn't feel like Cybertron. It didn't feel like Earth or the Ark: it didn't feel like anywhere. He couldn't tell if it was Pit-dark, or too bright for his optics. What happened to my night vision?
"Sides!" he summoned his brother, but received no answer. His systems were cycling too fast to allow him to turn inward to find his twin by his spark.
"Blue?" he queried the space around him. Sideswipe had the best luck with lovers, somehow finding the most accepting and caring bots in the universe: Bluestreak would help him if he were anywhere near, just as if he were Sideswipe. No answer.
He realized he wasn't alone. A dark (darker?) shape materialized near him.
Rather than causing him to take a fighting stance, the vaguely winged shadow that approached him, calmed him. He didn't feel lost any more. "I know you."
"Yes," his friend agreed, "I will never hurt you." Starrunner paused. "Can you promise the same?"
"What the frag-" Sunstreaker blustered, "Where'd that come from?"
"You have a reputation, here, as there," he said, transforming. Sunstreaker remembered: that jet was a MiG, called a Fulcrum, the pivotal point, the fighter the Eagle was designed to counter and failed. "Will you fly with me, and trust me to land with you?"
That was a question to which Sunstreaker knew the right answer: "Anytime, Star Runner." He held on tight as they took to the air.
-X-X-X-
Sideswipe heard it. He had to trigger his auto-record function and listen to it a few times to be sure: his brother wasn't dreaming about jet judo, and he wasn't dreaming about the Decepticon Air Commander. Sunstreaker was dreaming about the one still in medical, the bot Swoop started rebuilding on the sly as a "training exercise". In a strangely satisfied voice, his twin clearly said, "Anytime, Starrunner." It made no sense.
He wondered if Sunstreaker had heard the rumor making its way through the Ark grapevine. Bluestreak heard it from Hound at turnover, when Hound and Trailbreaker relieved Bluestreak and Mirage. Sunstreaker had been going on comm duty at the same time so it stood to reason that over their twelve-hour shift, Hound told him, too. Bluestreak relayed to Sideswipe that the mystery mech he and Mirage stumbled on, who insisted single-mindedly that he had to speak to Jazz, must be a senior special ops agent. The theory ran that he had been in deepest cover among the Decepticon ranks left on Cybertron. Over the vorns between the Ark’s departure and the present, he suffered significant damage and repair such that neither Mirage nor Jazz recognized him right away when he finally got transferred to Earth by the Decepticons. He had blown his cover after the skirmish over Nigeria by saving Grimlock when he thought no Decepticon could see, trying also to make his allegiance clear to the remaining Autobots by that gesture. Starscream obviously had noticed, and tried to kill him, resulting in his flight from the Decepticons and the injuries he suffered prior to being found on their patrol route that night. How else explain the personal welcome by the senior staff, his near-complete isolation from the rank-and-file, the remarkable silence of the mechs who did deal with him, and his behavior in Nigeria and since? He nearly died, unarmed, trying to save Sunstreaker in the middle of a firefight.
That still did not explain Sunstreaker dreaming about him.
It did explain the immediate move of Jazz into Prowl’s room to open an appropriate place for him with Mirage, the second-most senior spy in their garrison. Mirage’s bland disavowal of it all only lent credence to the rumor.
Starrunner can't even be his real name, Sideswipe mused, it has to have been his cover all this time.
He almost roused Bluestreak out of recharge to talk about it but something clicked into place in his processor. Sunstreaker's disturbed recharge periods, the moodiness, and the driving need for physical reassurance and distraction suddenly made perfect sense.
Sunny always says he needs someone who can take him. Whoever this Starrunner really is, he survived a long time among 'Cons so he’s gotta be tough. He felt his systems cycling back down, mystery solved: Sunny's got it bad for this guy.
-:-As of 04DEC2008, continue on to see the Focus of the Sun fall on Starrunner, as it was first known. Or, if you came from there, the prequels are Love Shared is Multiplied and now Company Glad Kept.